Partly Sleeping

Photo - www.senlfy.deviantart.com

Have you ever had the sense that after some unexpected experience hits your personal horizon, you look back and realize that part of you had been sleeping up until that moment?  I have reflected on this for years.  It has happened to me countless times and never fails to capture my attention with each new occurrence.

A simple analogy would be when you buy a new car and suddenly you see that same model, same color car everywhere you go.  Prior to purchasing that new vehicle, you never before noticed so many of the same car everywhere you traveled.  Your eyes and your consciousness have been newly awakened to that recognition, where before, part of you had been sleeping. 

This holds true with endless layers of who we are, where our lives are heading, where we have been.  When a new person comes into our lives, and love occurs, we are stunned that we lived our whole lives without that love up until that meeting. This applies to friendship, to family and to intimate love, as well as to new experiences, studies, dreams, etc.  It is almost beyond acceptance, once the love is realized, to ken how we survived without it for so long.  Our heart was partly sleeping, waiting for that arrival of that person or that experience to wake up that spot that was reserved exclusively for them/it.

Talents lie partly sleeping also.  Sometimes they awaken with a jarring crash, startling us with the all consuming need to dive in and embrace the newness, turn it in our hands and make a mark on the world with it.  Other times, those talents are merely dormant, waiting for occasional awakening.  This happens for me with various artistic endeavors.  I can go for months at a time without any need to be creative beyond my daily writing.  Then something happens to awaken the partly sleeping Muse and I hit a frenzy of creativity, producing a wide range of artistic expressions. 

To me, it is an endless joy to discover something new to love....about myself, and about the people around me.  Relationships are rarely static, and even in strife, we learn and grow.  Areas that had been partly sleeping within the context of relationships are regularly nudged awake.  We are never truly allowed to rest smugly on our laurels in that regard, and I see that as a positive.  Complacency hasn't ever been a behavior that I embrace.  I tend to be very active about communication so that all parties concerned can be clear and present with one another.  I fail at this, sometimes rather spectacularly, but the intent is always to be present and aware.  Because of this, I find that I am also equally aware when an area that had been partly sleeping suddenly awakens.  For me, it is a tangible thing, something I can physically sense and feel stirring.  I do my best to pay attention to that stirring, so that I recognize it for what it is.  It's when I ignore the sensation that I tend to bump my toes a wee bit, so I do my best to be mindful.

Recently, in perhaps the past six months, I've had a whole slew of partly sleeping areas come to full wakefulness.  These awakenings have spanned a wide range of experiences and relationships, some providing challenges to overcome, and all of them broadening my sense of Self and growing those newly awakened spots in my heart.  I have a fanciful image in my mind's eye of early morning hush coming softly awake, birds beginning to chirp, dew glistening on grass, trees and flowers in a private meadow that exists uniquely for my Soul to process these occurrences.  Oddly, this same meadow is a place I visit when I meditate, so who is to say it doesn't exist in some metaphysical manner.  The awakening of partly sleeping facets is the important thing to experience, to be aware of as it occurs.  I've never been a proponent of walking through life in an unconscious manner, so this awakening process is one that I enjoy.  I learn so much about myself as a result.  I've spoken about that endless refining of Self, of Soul, that we do on a daily basis.  The concept I am speaking of here, of "partly sleeping" is just a metaphor for that daily growth we all experience. 

The world is largely expansive, rather than contractive, and so are we as people.  We are here to grow and learn, to push boundaries and embrace new experiences.  With that in mind, I imagine that we are gifted with endless ability to expand as yet unknown partly sleeping facets.  Traits, experiences, thoughts, loves and more.  It is a satisfying thought to me, because it means we are never truly finished.  We never learn it all, never experience it all....and at the heart of this thought is Love. 

Through the waxing and waning, the ebb and flow of every experience, Love is the vital force at work.  Sometimes it lies sleeping for years before the awakening occurs, but that space for that particular love...be it a person, a place or an experience...that space was always there, inside us, waiting for that awakening.  We drift from one awakening to the next, continually learning.  And the beauty is that there will always be another moment when something that was partly sleeping is nudged, gently or urgently, to come alive and take full occupancy of that space in our hearts. I just really like that.
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If you enjoyed this post and would like to read more, you can find me at Healing Morning blog.

of white roses...

her gown, soft and snowy white against a curtain of green, 

a cascade of petals shimmering in the summer rays like layers of petticoats, 

the soft gentle scent of her perfume wafts on the current, greeting those who stop to greet her... 

like an old friend she is there to welcome them with an upturned smile...

his embrace encompasses her in one quick moment, a return of a summer friend, 

her dance partner, her suitor... she is happy and begins to sway in his gentle grasp... 

two unlikely partners 

lost in the magic of meeting again...

he takes her hand, and they being their dance again, moving to and fro with no regard for who is watching them, they resume their dance as they have done across the years together, 

he softly guiding her into a waltz of gentle affection... 

she nods, they sway and lose themselves in each other for this graceful moment... of white roses...

Grasshopper Thoughts, Vol. V, August 2011

I haven't grasshoppered in a while.  I never know when the urge will hit me, and today was the day.  I find this exercise to be useful when my head....my life, for that matter....is too jumbled up with stress to allow me to focus on one specific topic.  This allows me to skitter about, skim from one thought to the next and do some mental house cleaning.  So, here are the grasshopper thoughts that struck today.

When I breathe from my heart, it is never a mistake.

Sometimes the simple act of that breathing from the heart is the most challenging thing on earth to do.  I still do it.

Locking the car w/ the keys in the ignition and my purse and cell phone still inside the car is going to happen occasionally.  I look at it as a reminder to slow down.  Usually that happens after I throw a bit of a conniption.

I can love someone sincerely, but also not like who they are.  The two are not mutually exclusive and both teach me acceptance….of myself and that other person.

The art of kissing should never be underestimated; view it instead as profoundly valuable.  Seriously.

Banana flavored popsicles might be bad for you because of all the sugar, but they sure bring a smile.

When I was wee, my Grandpa assured me that fairies lived where wisteria bloomed.  To this day, I still believe, and I still glance about on occasion to search them out.

I have accepted that having a poor sense of direction doesn’t make the world stop turning.

Look me in the eyes when we’re together.  During conversation, during quiet moments, just a glance is sometimes enough, other times, a long and meaningful moment is profound….show me who you are in this way, and I will do the same.

Embracing manners will always matter to me.  Call it old fashioned, but I find it a beautiful expression of respect and, to me, it is worthy of continuing.    

I will never understand the concept of curling as a sport.  I get that it's a venerable sport, with rich history and culture behind it.  I'll even watch it during the Olympics (because I watch everything during the Olympics), but I remain mystified.

Sometimes blackberries make the world a better place.  It’s that simple.

Those are my grasshopper thoughts for the day.  There are more, of course.....always.  That's the nature of grasshopper thoughts.  They're always lurking and leaping about.  These are the ones I managed to corral and wrestle onto the screen.  

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If you enjoyed this post and would like to read more, you can find me at Healing Morning blog.

Journey to Joplin

I started blogging by writing about a pilgrimage to a monastery, but recently I made a pilgrimage of a different kind to the town where I was born--Joplin, Missouri. I had already bought my ticket to Joplin for a 4th of July family reunion before the May 22nd tornado. My parents, as well as numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins, live in or near Joplin. I flew in at dusk and I picked out with relative ease the bright, busy lights at the intersection of Range Line and I-44, and I could see the twinkling lights and tree-covered streets of Joplin as we flew over. It was also easy to spot a wide brown scar cutting through the heart of Joplin which had no lights, no trees, no greenery. The F-5 tornado had carved a six-mile-long path of destruction, at times almost a mile wide, which left more than 150 people dead, 7,000 homes destroyed, and 18,000 cars totaled.
But if the aerial view was astonishing, the view on the ground was shocking. Standing at ground zero—say, at 20th and Connecticut, or near St. Mary’s Catholic Church, or across from Joplin High School—it looked like a bomb had exploded from horizon to horizon, as far as the eye could see. There actually was a “ground zero” since many survivors described the eye of the storm passing over them, an eerie calm both preceded and followed by deadly 200 mph winds.
When I reached my parents’ house, I sifted through issues of The Joplin Globe that my mom had saved, which included the photographs of all those who had died: The three men with Down Syndrome-- who lived in a group home and died there together--Mark Farmer, Rick Fox, and Tripp Miller. A friend of Mark’s wrote that he rejoiced “in 1 Corinthians 13:10 as they now have perfect bodies.” http://www.neoshodailynews.com/joplin-tornado/x1534029702/Neosho-family-survives-Joplin-tornado-in-car
Will Norton, a teenager who had just left his high school graduation and was sucked out of his car. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVSeptS3kec His sister shared that it would only be a short time until Will saw them again because life is so short and “time goes fast in heaven.” Rusty Howard, who was found in Home Depot holding his five-year-old daughter and two-year-old son in his arms. The Pizza Hut manager, Christopher Lucas, who led everyone to safety in a walk-in freezer and struggled to hold the door shut before he died. Another father of two, Randy England, who had been laid off from the La-Z-Boy Factory in November which was, his wife said, a blessing in disguise because he had spent the remaining time with his family. He also was leading a mother and children to safety in Home Depot when he was killed. There are many stories of people who died while sacrificing themselves for others, and many more stories of those who came to the rescue of those who were trapped and injured.
While volunteering at Forest Park Baptist Church, I met the grandmother of two children who died. She told me she had received a phone call soon after the tornado struck from her daughter and son-in-law informing her that one of her grandchildren was dead, and the other was “going fast.” She told me the family had good moments and bad moments, but prayer was getting her through. “I pray all the time,” she said. “It’s all God.”
Two other children were in the car with their grandmother in the parking lot of Home Depot when the tornado struck. The grandmother told the children to start praying, and ten-year-old Mason Lillard was comforted by the angels she said she could see. Mason was pierced by an iron bar but survived.
Harmony Heights Baptist Church across from Joplin High School was holding its Sunday evening service when the tornado struck. Three members were killed, while the other fifty or so members were trapped in the debris. A group of young people arrived on the scene soon after and began pulling the members from the rubble. On a Harmony Heights Baptist Church newsletter is the following:
Devotion for the morning of May 22
Jeremiah 17:17 Do not be a terror to me; you are my refuge in the day of disaster. “Thou art my HOPE in the day of evil.”
Also posted on Strange Islands

In Hindsight

I realize the effort to defend my ego is a lot bigger than the effort to simply keep quiet. I also find that in either case, I can be equally incorrect.


I have found that when in my younger years, if someone said, “Here, try this”–and it was not a yummy treat, it probably was not in my best interest.

Every challenge always pays off– Always. You just have to realize that in hindsight.

The things I thought made me feel cool then, often make me feel silly now.

I would have never gotten that perm if I could have seen my senior picture beforehand. (See previous.)

Some of your best friendships do not end–they go into hibernation.

Whatever people feel they need to take drugs for can be achieved without them.

The best title I have ever held is “Daddy.” (And that it took my wife to achieve this title–and still does.)

Upon reflection, when we say we were “born this way”– that should only pertain to the good stuff. The rest we learned.

Being a loser is someone else’s opinion that I do not have to agree with.

I can understand and be compassionate to something without agreeing with it.

Kids and golf can be the most fun you will ever have being pissed off.

God would never forsake me, I would forsake God. (God waited for my return.)

It is okay to love someone and they not love you back–just don’t do it on their property after dark.

I should have listened more to what I didn’t want to listen to.

I also should have kept my mouth shut a lot more.

Most of the worst stuff I feared I created. (Often it would never arrive.)

I see that most of the stuff that I spent most of my time trying to get; I no longer have, and no longer need.

I also see that most of what I ever needed was always there, I was too busy looking in the wrong places.

Wounds heal.

Love returns. (Not that it ever really goes away.)

You can’t be totally present always looking back in hindsight.

 
From Artisan of the Human Spirit

freedom to be me...

the journey starts with the "freedom "from" me"...

the ability to lay down my fears, my wants, my needing to be thinner, richer, taller, more humorous, live in a bigger house... the freedom to be me without all that our own minds say is important, more important than who we really are... the keeping up with the Joneses so to speak... the lack of being complete and happy with what we have been given... talents, speech, sight, food, shelter, employment... be gracious for what is before you and not what you think you need to have in order to be who you think you need to be... for all that we lust for, new car, larger home, better job all to soon becomes familiar... and then we move the milestone again... think of your last new car... no one could eat it in, drink in it, wear dirty shoes in it... for the first year.... now it's just your car... where does the race stop... which milestone becomes enough... a million dollars... maybe it needs to be 2 million... maybe 5... what or when is enough...

the freedom to be me allows for a world of opportunity to be lain at my feet... those moments to be truly thankful, free of wants and desires, just moments of being truly blessed and being content with that... quit complaining about the new job you wished for and received only to find out the hours are longer and the people not quite as nice... quit moaning about having to clean the huge new house you prayed for and received... happiness grows from within and if we can learn to let go, get ourselves out of the way and be content, the whole meaning of our lives becomes crystal clear... all this stuff that we do, not to please ourselves, but to look good in the eyes of someone else, slowly robs us of the joy our lives are meant to be filled with...

but this is our life's work... to free ourselves from the stranglehold our "want" machine has on us... just don't give up.... never give up... even if you die trying... to never have begun the journey is far worse than stumbling along the way and ever reaching for deep down peace... 

the freedom to be me, allows me to greet you and be thankful for who you are, not "what" you are, or what you perceive yourself to be...  

meet me face to face,  and being to being without all of our bling and possessions in tow, as that is the person I am interested in... let me care about your smile and the warmth of your arms as they embrace me, let me see Heaven in your eyes and hear the melody of your heart...  show me who you are and I will honour you in the same way... lift me up and I shall carry you also... 

love me as I shall love you... free to be... me... and you...

also posted on my Blog (http://currentripple.blogspot.com/)

Week 30-Lesson 30: Open Up to Fear

I thought if I traveled, I'd find something. Maybe I'd find God. Maybe someone out there could ease the difficulties of life. You know, I used to talk to God. I'd often ask him (her?), "What should I do?" Often times I'd close my eyes and pray very hard. I didn't want to not know where I was going. I needed to be reassured. I needed to know if things would work out.

But no answer came.

And then one day, when I least expected it, after a long run around the neighborhood, a crystal clear voice said, "You know what to do." The voice was strong and reassuring. But I didn't feel strong and I didn't feel I was any closer to knowing what I was meant to do in this world.

I wanted to follow that voice. I wanted to know it intimately. I wanted to understand where it came from. What if I went the wrong way? What if I did the wrong things? What if I made mistakes? What if people didn't like what I was doing?

I was afraid. I didn't have any answers. I made a lot of mistakes in life (and I'm still making them). I fell down quite a bit. I was not a happy person and I didn't respect myself nor did I believe I had anything positive to offer the world. Still, I could not forget that clear voice that came to me on that fall day of my senior year in high school while running down a narrow path flanked with bright orange and yellow maple leaves. The air was crisp, but the late sun shone on my face and filled me with an incredible warmth. But it did not last.

After high school I traveled all over the world searching for that voice. I traveled to Mexico, South America, Asia, India, etc. I meditated, I practiced yoga and once again, in deep silence, I basked in that inner warmth and stillness I had felt for those few moments in high school. For a time, I attributed these feelings to a certain practice. I believed that something outside me--the environment, an organization, a teacher, a guru, God--made me feel like this. Without this practice or a certain environment, I thought that this peace and this joy could not last.

I don't know exactly when things changed. I don't recall the exact day when I understood that voice or when I overcame my fear. I think it was gradual. Meditation helped, yoga helped, walks in nature helped, writing helped, friends helped, books helped--I am grateful for so many things that aided me on my path and gave me the courage to open up.

But that voice. The one that said, "You know what to do." It didn't come from God or Buddha or yoga or meditation or my husband or my friends or my family or anything else. All of these people and things played a part in understanding these words.

"You know what to do," came from me.

Not the Katherine Jenkins "me," but the one that is opened and fearless. The one that is not separate. The one that is connected to everything.

Also on my blog Lessons from the Monk I Married